


Not Your Usual Love Story

by adVENTitiious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, All Human, American AU, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7443142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adVENTitiious/pseuds/adVENTitiious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius Black is a highly successful lawyer, who is about to become the youngest senior partner in history at the prestigious Black Firm. That is, until he meets Remus Lupin... the guy delivering the pizza he never ordered...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sirius Black stepped out from between gleaming silver doors and onto the 96th floor of Black Tower.

The waiting room before him was sparsely furnished with mahogany furniture, the floors black marble, and the walls a mixture of greys situated in horizontal lines that gave the illusion of layers of rock. The twenty-six year old smoothed down short, silky black locks as he approached a large mahogany desk at the opposite side of the impressive two-story high room, passing between a set of identical leather sofas, that looked like they were never used. He smiled, displaying perfectly straight teeth, as he neared a man sitting behind the waiting desk, his gaze trained on the computer screen before him.

"Hello, Jensen," Sirius said smoothly, and he came to a stop, hands landing on richly-stained wood as he leaned his six-foot-two frame over to get a better view of the attractive dark-skinned assistant.

The man looked up slowly from the computer. He eyed the newcomer warily, shifting back in his chair. "Mr. Black, you're late," the man said dryly before pressing the black button built into his desk, and a soft humming click sounded on the wall nearby. "He's been expecting you."

Sirius smiled personably. "There's no need for formalities between us," he said, lowering his voice and leaning in closer, his dark grey silk tie brushing the desk's smooth surface. "You can call me Sirius... or God,"—His smile grew—"like you were screaming last week."

Brown eyes widened, and the man shot a precursory glance around the empty waiting room, and then he leaned forward, his gaze darkening, all politeness falling from his facade. "Yeah, and if I remember correctly you never called me back, _Mr. Black_."

Sirius felt a twinge of guilt but hid it immediately under his smile. The man had been fun and was exceptionally fit, but he couldn't date a man, especially not his father's personal assistant. And Jensen, though very enjoyable, seemed set on something more than co-workers with benefits. He let out a sigh through his nose and straightened himself, adjusting his perfectly set tie unnecessarily. "Listen, Jensen-"

"Sirius, what are you doing out here making small talk with my assistant? I've been waiting." A tall man in a full suit, who looked like Sirius but aged a good thirty years stood with the door open, grey eyes severe.

Sirius nodded curtly and proceeded to walk past the man and into the room, his gaze searching as he entered the oversized office that housed the President of the Black Firm - the east coast's most prestigious private law firm - Orion Black. "You wanted to see me for something, Father?" he asked as he made his way over to the thick wall of glass that looked down on the bustling city of Chicago, all of it covered in a heavy blanket of white, Christmas music blaring as cars honked in impatience at each other and the errant overzealous pedestrian. The view was more impressive than the one in his office, twenty stories down, but that was to be expected, and to be honest, he preferred his, everything looked too small from the higher view.

"Yes, have a seat," the man said brusquely as he stood behind him at a side table that housed an impressive collection of liquor.

Sirius rolled his eyes and made his way over to the three oversized chairs set before the giant desk he had as a child dreamed of sitting behind. He eyed the chairs only briefly, taking the one on the left with a small smirk.

"Sirius," his father said as he set a glass of liquor on the table by his son before taking the large executive chair behind his desk. He frowned when he had to pivot his seat slightly to the right to face him. "As you know, I've been wanting to take on a new senior partner for quite some time now, ever since Alphard passed away last year."

Sirius eyed the glass but didn't pick it up at the mention of his uncle, his father's brother, and the man he had considered more of a father-figure than his own for most of his life. They had been close, Sirius staying at his house most summers, but they had drifted somewhat right before his death when Sirius had accepted his father's offer to join the firm, despite wanting to apply for the position of public defense attorney. His uncle hadn't been pleased with his decision, and had grown even more upset when Sirius had taken up drinking heavily just a few weeks into the not so guilt-free job.

Sirius carefully studied the glass. "You shouldn't offer an alcoholic bourbon, you know, no matter what the year."

His father took a large drink from his own glass and set it down with a clink, his expression darkening, disapproving. "You're not an alcoholic, Sirius, only the weak-willed can become dependent, you just need to learn more discipline."

Sirius didn't respond with the fact that he would disagree with that, considering Orion was definitely an alcoholic, amongst many things. He sniffed and shifted himself away from the tempting drink. "What about James? He'd make a great senior partner." His best friend since pre-school, and fellow junior partner, could use the extra money and stability too with becoming newly engaged to one Lily Evans, the city's top prosecuting attorney; he still couldn't figure that one out.

"Potter?" Orion spat. He shook his head and then took another drink. "No, the firm will stay in the family, only a Black can hold these positions, Sirius. You know that very well."

"Sounds a bit incestuous, don't you think?" Sirius asked and didn't manage to hold back a grin when his father's face turned slightly red.

His father finished off his drink and slammed it down. "Listen to me, you can either take the position or find somewhere else to work, I'll just give the position to Regulus when he finishes law school in two years." He paused. "However, you might find the real world not quite as compensatory or forgiving of your _shortcomings_." He eyed the untouched glass by Sirius meaningfully.

Sirius stiffened in his seat. "What happened to me not being an alcoholic?"

"Let's call them inconsistencies then. I'm willing to overlook your rough patches, you're still young," his father said and drummed his fingers on the table. He shifted the frame of himself and President Clinton playing golf together five degrees to the right. "Your mother wants you to come to the holiday dinner party tonight."

Sirius huffed a laugh. "I'm sure she does," he said. His mother, Walburga Black, New York's biggest socialite, was a very cold woman and was all about appearances, but then that was why his father had married her he supposed. "Tell her I can't book a flight at such late notice though, and New York is quite the drive."

Orion ran a hand through peppered but still thick locks, a mannerism Sirius had never seen his father use in front of anyone outside of immediate family members. "You will come even if you have to use the personal jet. I'll have Jensen arrange your flight after you meet with the Whitlocks tonight for dinner. You need to make an appearance at the New York branch if you're to become the company's new senior partner after the quarter ends."

Sirius found himself picking up the heavy crystal glass. He took a sip, letting the caramel notes roll around on his tongue and soothe his nerves just by the taste. He'd only have a drink, a drink couldn't hurt. He closed his eyes and thought. He didn't want to work for his family anymore, he wanted to get out, find his own way, and taking the offered position would make that even harder, near impossible, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little scared to strike out on his own. Why would someone choose a harder life, when they didn't have to? "All right," he said slowly and took another drink. "I'll pack my things."

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Sirius stiffened under the touch. "Good, I'm glad you've seen reason. You can use the closet of clothes in your old room, your mother wants you to be dressed appropriately and had it stocked just for the occasion. And I'll have Jensen write up an acceptance speech for you as well. You can deliver it at the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas brunch, your choice."

Sirius took another drink, finishing off the glass. "Thank you, Father, you're very generous."

* * *

"Have yourself a _merry fucking Christmas_ ," Sirius sang only a little off-tune over Frank Sinatra as he staggered down the long hallway in the 10,000 square foot condo perched on the top of Black Tower like a bird of prey surveying the city. He hated the house, always had, which is probably why he'd had another glass of bourbon. Or maybe a bottle. He was lucky James was such a good friend and had taken his place for the Whitlock dinner, even if he had bitched about it. He groaned and leaned his upper body heavily on the wall, shaking his head as he looked down at the empty bottle of liquor, and a sound finally made it from his ears to his sluggish mind. The phone was ringing, it was probably his driver.

He pushed off the wall and righted himself as he tried to find the damned thing. He opened a door and found Regulus's empty room, a phone ringing by his bedside insistently. "Don't believe in voicemail," he muttered and tripped on something to face dive into soft covers. He sighed and let his head rest on plush blankets when the sound of ringing reached his senses again.

He moaned and began to crawl up the bed, reaching out a hand blindly and knocking a few things off until his hand settled on the old fashioned phone. He lifted it and pressed it to his ear. "'Lo?" He cleared his throat. "Regulus Black speaking, whore extraordinaire," he said with no small amount of amusement. Stupid bastard, always agreeing to everything his parents told him, not that he was much better, but at least he tried to fight it. Regulus enjoyed it.

"This is... Regulus Black?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

Sirius blinked. "Yes. What'd y'want?"

"I've got the pizza you ordered down at the main floor. Would you like me to bring it up?"

Sirius lay silently for a long moment. Was Regulus still home? He thought he had gone ahead with his parents to New York.

"Hello?"

Sirius's eyes jerked open. "Oh, uh, yeah, pizza sounds good. Just bring it up, I'll buzz you in." He hung up the phone with a clang and lay on the bed as he tried to remain conscious. He had drank way too much. He pushed himself up with a low groan and shuffled out the room and down the unlit hallway to the kitchen of dark wood and contrasting granite. He leaned heavily on the wall, catching a glimpse of himself in the glass oven door. He looked like shit. "Fuck me," he said and pressed his index heavily on the button to unlock the private elevator that opened straight to the condo instead of the guard's desk out front. He didn't want to have to see them drunk and have everyone at work find out he had slipped, guards were a chatty sort. He rubbed a hand over his face roughly when he heard the front door open.

"Hello...?"

"Just a minute," he said and made his way towards the door at the end of the room and the deep voice. He walked into the all white living room to find a tall sandy blond man standing well inside the door, holding a pizza awkwardly.

Sirius walked towards him as he pulled out his wallet. "How much is it?" he asked as he shuffled in his wallet looking for a small bill.

"Uh, you're uh, uh... twenty dollars." The man shifted, clearing his throat. "You're Regulus?"

"No, he's not here." Sirius looked up and frowned, black eyebrows furrowing. "Twenty even?"

The man nodded as he looked around the room as if he were searching for something. "Yeah... The pizza was for Regulus though."

"I'm his brother. He's on his way to New York right now, he won't be back until the New Year, so it's me or no one." Sirius pulled out a hundred, the alcohol in his mind ebbing a little for him to appreciate the specimen before him. He appeared to be about his age and was lean and tall, but not quite as tall as him, his sandy locks were short but long enough to be messed, he was wearing khaki cargo pants and a nicely fitted white t-shirt that displayed finely toned muscles. "You deliver pizzas?" he asked, as he held out the bill.

The man reached out, their fingers brushing as he took the money. "Uh-"

"Keep the change," he said and then took the pizza box from him, finding himself suddenly grateful for it, maybe it'd help sober him up. He watched the man hold the large bill in his hand, an odd combination of emotions crossing his face at the same time, but guilt the most apparent. "Don't worry, I'm rich," Sirius added, motioning to the space around them and then laughed. "For now at least."

"You can see yourself out." He turned but then stopped suddenly, an ill-advised emotion causing him to turn back around. "Hey, do you want to-" He cut off, the offer to join him dying on his lips as he found a hand gun pointing at him.

"I'm sorry," the guy said in a shaky voice. "But I can't leave." He took a step forward. "I _can't._ "

Sirius dropped the pizza and lifted his hands to fight back or block or something when the butt of the gun hit him in the head and everything disappeared.

* * *

Sirius groaned. He sucked in a sharp breath when his head throbbed angrily, and he tried to touch a hand to the aching spot but couldn't. He groaned a curse as his eyes struggled to open, the pulsing in his head growing as he found his arms and legs pinned down. No, not pinned—he struggled to move—tied. He was _tied_ to a dining room chair. "Fuck," he growled.

"You're awake. Good."

Sirius lifted his chin from his chest to find himself looking into calm hazel eyes. He blinked slowly, eyelids heavy and throbbing, vision unsteady, and he asked the most pressing question at that moment. "What are you going to do to me?" His voice rough and throat dry.

The man sat down on the nearby black leather couch to face him, his gun looking abandoned on the cushion beside him. "Something that I should have done a year ago," he said, quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

Sirius laughed and then clenched his eyes shut, the pain in his head taking a back burner to his sudden predicament. "Right." Shit. Why had he let him into the condo? And he had told the help to all leave him alone in his drunken stupor. No one would be back until his family returned from New York, unless they came looking for him, which they wouldn't with his luck. They'd probably just think he had gotten drunk and bailed. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked somewhat numbly.

"I won't... unless I have to, but I'm hoping it won't come to that."

Sirius clenched his teeth, anger beginning to find a spot in his mess of thoughts. "I regret tipping you."

The man laughed. "Yeah, I figured you would."

Sirius cursed again. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing," the man said quietly. "It's your father who I want something from."

Sirius opened his eyes to meet a hard hazel gaze. "Then why do you need me?"

The man ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Insurance," he said less angrily.

Sirius swallowed hard, finding he preferred the anger, because the hesitance felt more ominous. "Ah." He glanced around the room, he was in the less used family room, the room with the least amount of windows, and the curtains were pulled. "Listen, ah... what's your name?" he said, hoping he wouldn't tell him, as he tried to gauge how deeply the man was committed. Maybe he could talk him out of it.

The sandy blond stood up, ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Lupin. Remus Lupin."

Sirius cursed mentally. He was either the best liar he had ever met or he was in big trouble. "Remus," he said softly, meeting surprised hazel eyes when the man turned at his name. "I don't know what's going on, but this isn't the way you want to go about it, I assure you."

And the man laughed sharply. He took a step closer and glared down at him darkly. "You don't know me, and you don't know what I want or don't want, _I assure you_. You look just like him, you know that? Like an _Orion Black clone_." He sneered at the name.

Sirius held his gaze. "So I've been told," he said coolly. "So what's the plan then? You might as well tell me if you're going to kill me."

The man took a step back, his anger slipping away and being replaced by uneasiness once more. "I told you, I don't want it to come to that."

Sirius laughed. "Well, you've got me tied up," he said, straining against the belts used to secure him angrily. "And you've told me your name. So, I can't really see how I'm going to come out of this, now can I?"

The man named Remus sat back down on the couch's edge. "Just be quiet. I need time to think."

Sirius laughed again, ignoring the man and feeling more than a little unhinged. He was going to die, he was sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Three hours.

Sirius had been sitting, tied to a dining room chair in his parents blasted condo for _three hours._

And during that time, the youngest future partner of Black Firm had come to only one conclusion; he needed to figure out a way to escape, and soon, because if not, he was going to miss his flight to New York. Not because the pilot would leave, because he wouldn't. In fact, he'd probably wait there all night just so he could charge his father an exorbitant fee, but because he would probably be dead...

Sirius looked down at smooth, dark hardwood planks, frowning some as his gaze unfocused, his thoughts rebelling. Because—despite his current predicament—the man named Remus Lupin didn't really _seem_ like a murderer, and Sirius had met his fair share. He was a private defense lawyer after all.

The restrained man tried to roll his shoulders as he glanced back up with regret, his neck and upper back muscles too tight. He watched on as his captor continued to pace back and forth out in the hallway as he had been for two hours now, his steps only getting faster and more impatient with each subsequent pass of the arched doorway.

He wiggled his nose, his face itching annoyingly. "Hey Lupin," he said as he managed to shift in his seat some, grunting in discomfort when the belts wrapped around his wrists and ankles dug more deeply into his skin. " _Remus_ ," he called out, more loudly, "a little help?"

The sandy blond stopped his pacing abruptly and peered into the room, a look of surprise gracing his features. "What's wrong?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, refusing to point out the obvious. "My face itches," he said instead.

The man frowned, stepping into the room and glancing around apprehensively as if he were searching for something.

"My face _itches_ ," he insisted, "Could you scratch it for me?"

"Ah..."

Sirius watched the man run a hand up into messed locks, his expression unsure. " _Come on_ ," he growled, "it's the _least_ you can do."

The sandy blond let out a heavy sigh and walked over, stopping directly in front of him, hazel eyes peering down at him. "All right. Where?"

"My nose," Sirius said, tilting his chin up and wrinkling said body part when it started to intensify. "Just rub it." A hand reached out and tentatively rubbed at the tip. " _Harder_ , I'm not going to break." He sighed as Remus complied. "Ahh, that's better, thank you," he said.

Remus took a step back, his hand dropping to his side. "...You're welcome."

Sirius let his chin drop, and studied his lap, another pressing matter needing addressed now that he had the man's attention. "I don't suppose you'd let me use the bathroom, would you?"

"You need to..."

"Piss," he said, nodding. "Yeah, really bad."

"Oh. Well, I guess we could work something out."

Sirius looked back up at the man. "Really?" he said, sounding disproportionately happy he was sure, but not caring in the least, his lips even tugging up some. He had thought he was going to have to piss himself only moments before. Things were looking up.

The guy cracked a small smile and shook his head, glancing out towards the hallway before saying, "You make me feel really bad, you know that?"

Sirius smiled back slightly, black brows arching hopefully. "Bad enough, you'll let me go?"

"No."

His smile dropped. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying," he half mumbled, but perked back up when his captor leaned down to undo the belts securing his feet to the legs of the chair on which he'd been sitting for far too long. He let out a heavy sigh, and he moved tingling legs and rolled stiff ankles, blood flowing into his lower limbs and relaxing him somewhat. "Thanks a lot, Remus."

"Don't thank me yet," Remus said as he helped Sirius stand up, guiding his arms over the back of the chair with his hands still tightly secured behind his back.

Pitch-dark eyebrows shot up as Sirius was nudged towards the doorway, and he slowed as he tried to look over his shoulder and back at the guy. "Uh, I can't take a leak without my hands."

Remus turned him right, guiding him down the corridor, obviously having found the hallway bathroom in his pacing. "Don't worry, I'll help you out."

* * *

Sirius stood five minutes later inside a mostly marble bathroom, grey eyes clenched shut as he tried to calm down a _certain_ ridiculous body part.

"I can't." The two words echoed in the small, high-ceilinged room.

No not ridiculous—deviant—because how he was even _slightly_ aroused at the prospect of the man touching him was beyond him. He had always enjoyed the thought of bondage sure, but this wasn't sexplay. Not even close. Clearly, he was losing his mind.

He let out a slow breath, the sound unsteady. "Please, just let me do it myself. I promise I'll let you tie me back up afterward."

The man laughed at that. "Right. You think I'm going to fall for that? It's fine, I have one too you know, I'm not going to judge you."

Sirius groaned internally, his chin inclining. "It's not that. I... Remus..." He opened his eyes and looked over at the man out of the lower corner of his vision, meeting his confused gaze. Fuck it. "I'm gay."

Hazel eyes widened, and the guy's expression seemed to border between uncomfortable and confused. "Oh. So, you're uh, you're... uncomfortable with me?"

Sirius let his gaze drop down to the white marble flooring around his feet, and he sucked on his teeth for a long moment. "Yeah. Something like that," he mumbled, feeling not a little bit of a freak.

"Something... _Wait,_ you don't mean—"

Sirius pressed his lips tightly together between recently whitened teeth and nodded with a heavy breath of defeat.

"But - but you're my _hostage_ ," Remus said, as if he could have forgotten.

Sirius shrugged.

"Can't you, you know, calm down?"

Sirius let out a clipped laugh. "I'm trying, believe me." He felt hands behind him suddenly, working at the belt that was securely wrapped around his wrists.

"If this is a trick, you won't get another chance," Remus said, his voice suddenly hard again and as soon as Sirius felt his hands free, a familiar metal circle was pressed against his right shoulder blade.

"Ah, problem solved," he said somewhat tensely.

"Just hurry it up," Remus said in response.

Sirius began to fiddle with his pants. "Could you turn on the faucet?" Water began to run in the white marble sink a half a second later. "Thanks..." he said and then looked around as he emptied his bladder. "So, you live around here?"

A sharp laugh followed the answer. "Not anymore."

Sirius hummed, filing the tidbit away, and then gave himself a shake before fixing himself back up. "Can I wash my hands?"

Remus sighed. "Yeah, all right," he said, and Sirius almost smiled at the begrudging tone until the barrel of a gun pushed him towards the running water.

"That's uncomfortable, you know."

"I know."

Sirius ran his hands over a fresh bar of soap a few times and then scrubbed them under the water. He needed to at least pretend that there was some normalcy, for his sanity. A hand towel landed on his right shoulder as he opened his mouth to speak. "Thanks."

"Just hurry it up," was his response, but there was little bite to it.

Sirius folded the towel and placed it on the sink, and he rubbed at his wrists, left then right. "I don't suppose you'd reconsider tying me up again."

" _No._ "

Sirius sighed and then placed his hands behind him, overlapping his wrists helpfully. "Fine, just do it then."

* * *

Sirius was getting agitated. No, agitated wasn't a good word. Nervous. Yes, nervous, because the longer he sat tied up, the less he felt like he was going to come out of the night unscathed. That was partly due to the fact that Sirius tended to get melodramatic when he was tired or not feeling well. And at that moment, he had a returning headache, and—he fought a yawn—he was getting tired, because the alcohol he had drank was wearing off. And also partly, because his captor was acting more strange.

He studied the sandy blond, who was now sitting on the couch facing him, staring at the blank screen of his cell phone as if it might spring to life and give him some invaluable information. That or he was working up the courage to call someone. He needed to get a better idea of what was going on, maybe then he could figure out how he was going to get free. Problem was, Remus Lupin, though evidently fond of tying people up, was not a talker. He'd need to work on that. "So, what's this all about anyway?"

The sandy blond didn't respond.

"Drugs? You need drug money, Remus?"

The man's lips pulled to the side in distaste, like they had every time Sirius had said his name, but he didn't respond.

Sirius held back a growl at being ignored. "Drugs it is." He made to lean forward, only his neck succeeding. "So what're you on? Huh Remus? I haven't seen you drinking anything. What's your poison? Cocaine? _Crack_ maybe?"

The guy looked up slowly. "I'm not on drugs," he said quietly.

"Come on, I know you've got to be using something. Weed? Heroin?" Sirius raised pitch-dark eyebrows. "Got the bugs, Remus?"

"Shut up!" Remus shouted without warning, shoving himself upright, and Sirius tried fruitlessly to lean away at the outburst. "You're one to talk, you were drunk out of your _mind_ before six o'clock!"

Sirius tried to shrug but failed again, his restraints seeming tighter, and he ignored the sudden discomfort at remembering his slip, his heart racing inside his chest. "Drinking isn't illegal."

Remus stood stiffly at that, and then he exhaled loudly, dropping back down into his seat, clenching the phone in his hand tightly. "Just _stop_ talking. I'm trying to think."

Sirius eyed him, irritation egging him on anyway. "What do you want then? My dad screw your mom?" His gaze swept over his captor's body. "I could see that, she's probably hot."

Remus glared at him darkly. "Don't. Talk. About my mom. Or I'll tape your mouth _shut_."

Sirius stopped at that. He had found it. "So it's about her then?" He looked down at his lap when a flicker of raw emotion flashed across the man's face at the question. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "my dad can be an asshole."

"Yeah, you're right," Remus said, the look that Sirius had seen, echoing in his words. "But it's not what you said, my mom... she's... she's dying."

Sirius frowned. "How-"

"She was the maid here, had been for three years," Remus said, looking around the room in distaste, and then paused for a long moment. "She went to the doctor for an annual check-up last year, and he ordered some tests for her." He cleared his throat. "Found out she had cancer. The doctor said it was highly treatable with surgery, but she'd need chemo first. Everything was going as expected with the chemo, but when she had to take off from work, doctor ordered, he fired her - _just because_ he didn't want to deal with a sick worker." Sirius said nothing. "She got dropped from her insurance a month later, before she was ready for surgery." Remus laughed, the sound pathetic. " _After three years_ , he just up and fires her. She was even using her vacation days," he said, sounding guilty for some reason.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Maybe he didn't know."

Hazel eyes flashed sharply. "He knew. She tried to fight it, and he lied about why he had fired her, said it was because she missed work too often, had it in his records. She _never_ missed. Now she can't get insurance, because no one wants to hire her. She's too sick. I dropped out of medical school when it first happened to try to work and help her out, thinking everything would be okay somehow. Funny thing though," he said, not the least amused, "it's hard to get a regular job when you've got a degree and two years of medical school to boot. Everyone higher up thinks you're gunning for their job." He shrugged. "I was."

Sirius sat silently, his physical discomfort no longer noticed.

"She was always there for me, growing up. It was just me and her, my dad left us when I was just a baby," Remus said, staring intently at the phone in his hands, his voice suddenly harder to hear as it softened, "She would have had savings too if she hadn't insisted on helping pay my tuition for undergrad and my living expenses in medical school. It's all my fault. This is the least I could do. She needs surgery now, the doctors say if she doesn't have it, her chances, well she doesn't have any..." He looked up at that. "Do you know how it feels to hear that your mother is going to die, because she can't get a surgery when you're training to be a _doctor_?"

Sirius grimaced. "Why didn't you try suing him? For wrongful dismissal."

"I tried." Remus rubbed at his face roughly. " _Believe me_ , I tried. No one would take up a case against the Black firm. Let alone Orion Black himself."

Sirius frowned. "So you just gave up? You should've kept looking."

"I did, that's when _this_ happened." Remus stood, pushing up his shirt and turned, showing what appeared to be two bullet scar wounds on his lower back on the left side. "This guy, Greyback, he told me to leave things alone, or we'd both pay, and when I told him to fuck off. He pulled out a gun." He lowered his shirt and shook his head. "The only reason I survived was because the lunatic gave me a running head start."

Sirius didn't say anything, guilt twisting in his gut. He knew about Greyback, the 'reformed' notorious gang member of the Death Eaters. He had heard his name mentioned to cryptically on too many occasions over the years when there was a particularly tricky case that they had somehow won.

And then there was his first set of cases upon entering the firm, his first year, he had been sure he was going to lose more than he won, his clients almost all undoubtedly guilty. But time after time something would happen; a piece of proof would go missing, key witnesses would flee, disappear, or just change their testimonies they had against his clients. Sirius hadn't been able to shake the gnawing feeling that something was very wrong when in his biggest case of his first year - which his father had for some reason given to him - involving a senator accused of murder, the only witness linking his client to the victim was found dead the week before the trial, apparent suicide. He remembered he had started drinking more then.

Sirius dipped his head. "So you're going to kill me to get revenge?"

"No," Remus said sharply and then let out a slow breath, continuing more quietly, "I just want the money we need, to cover her surgery and treatments."

"You'll get arrested afterward," he said, feeling somehow bad for the man. Remus Lupin was in way over his head.

Remus shrugged, looking back down at the phone in his hands. "Not until I've arranged for the payment of her care. That's all that matters."

Sirius resisted telling his captor that his father would not rest until he had retribution, and that it would be ugly. Very ugly. He wasn't head of the largest firm on the east coast for no reason. Although Remus seemed to have an idea of that, he supposed. "Well, at least if I'm going to die it'll be over something less frivolous than an affair."

Remus shook his head. "How can you joke at a time like this?"

Sirius smiled up wryly at his captor, who was probably a better person than him by the sounds of it, and he couldn't help but acknowledge how messed up their situation was. "It's just who I am, Remus."

The man's face twitched. " _Stop_ saying my name."

"Can't do that, _Remus_ ," Sirius said, watching him flinch again and then offered, "Maybe if you untied me, it wouldn't bother you so much."

The guy let out a surprised laugh, shaking his head. "Not going to happen, _Sirius_."

And Sirius found himself grinning back at the smiling man gamely. He was going to feel bad when he figured out a way to turn the tables.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius listened intently to what was, as far as he could hear, a very one-sided conversation. Remus was standing in the hallway just out of view, but not hearing range, his voice _barely_ hiding the seething heat behind his words as he spoke to one Orion Black.

"I _said, fifty thousand_."

Sirius didn't know much about the guy, but he'd just added hot-tempered to his mental list. Well, at least he was when it came to his mother's well-being...

"Oh yes, I have him."

He grimaced some, scratching the note guiltily. That left him with bad liar, terrible criminal mastermind, honest, smart, good sense of humor, caring... and sadistic. Because he _had_ tied him up. What was he _thinking_? The guy had tied him up and was holding him for ransom, he shouldn't be making a list of all his good attributes.

The raven-haired guy growled as he tried to slip his wrists out of the belt wrapped tightly around them, only succeeding in making them feel even more snug, and he gritted his teeth, struggling more.

He couldn't stand it _any_ longer. He had given his captor his father's private cell number when he found out he didn't have it and had left a message with his assistant instead. Too vague of one—at least he hoped for Jensen's safety, because he was going to strangle the guy if he found out otherwise—because it had gotten him no calls from Sirius's father. He'd also offered to speak to him on his behalf; but the sandy blond had only rolled his eyes and said he'd have to be a fool to fall for that.

Sirius had agreed with a restricted shrug. It had been worth a try though.

"You can ask him if he's okay. That's it."

Sirius's gaze flicked up with sudden peaked interest as Remus walked into the room where he sat. He eyed the sandy blond with a morbid curiosity, his hazel eyes hardened and entire posture tensed with some emotion he could guess easily, and as soon as he reached him the phone was pressed against the left side of his face, and he was told to talk.

"Father?" he said, feeling a little disoriented, the phone screen uncomfortably pressed to his cheekbone but he couldn't adjust it.

"Sirius. _Will_ he kill you?" the man asked over an otherwise silent phone line, his voice like polished ice and making Sirius's eyes fall shut, because— _fuck_ —he didn't want to give him the money at all. Right. Right—" _Tell me_."

Sirius shoved down the sudden plethora of emotions clawing at his chest and stilled the racing thoughts in his mind vying for his attention. He mentally cursed, cleared his throat somewhat weakly, and hoped he was doing the right thing as he answered: "No... I'm fine. Tell mom not to worry."

" _Good_. Now listen to me, as _soon_ as you're loose, call _Fenrir Greyback_ , his info is in on my desk, tell him everything you know about this guy. He'll take care of this. I'm in a meeting, but I'll let him know to expect your—"

"That's enough," Remus said, and he pulled the phone away, placing it to his own ear and walking back out of the room to finish.

Sirius swallowed hard not able to make out the last of the conversation, and he flinched when he heard not a minute later what was most likely the man's phone slam against a wall with a loud _crack_. He shook his head. He'd probably leave it behind too; this was definitely for the best. And then the sandy blond was in the room, and Sirius stiffened in his seat.

"I can't believe it. He doesn't even _care_ ," Remus growled. He stalked forward, grabbing the gun from off the couch and turned to face a suddenly stone-still Sirius, who watched with a budding horror as the weapon was slowly raised to point at him. "I told him I'd kill you," his captor said, his voice suddenly quiet, and the sandy blond took a step closer, "and he said to _go ahead_."

Grey eyes widened. " _Wait—wait I have money too, please Remus, please don't_ —" The words died when cold metal pressed against Sirius's right temple. He clenched his eyes shut, and he didn't quite hold in a broken whimper when he felt the gun cocked.

He had been _wrong_.

 _So wrong_.

 _He was going to die. Shit. Shit. SHI_ —

"I..." There was a long pause. "I _can't_ ," was whispered in distraught, the words cutting through Sirius's swarming thoughts, like the sun's rays through parting storm clouds. "I can't _do this_. What was I _thinking_?"

And then the gun was gone, and Sirius's eyes popped open, relief flooding him and making him feel dizzy like he might be sick, and he saw-"No! _Wait_! You can't just leave me like this!" he shouted at the quickly retreating form.

The man froze at the doorway, the muscles of his back tensed, and Sirius spoke up again quickly, " _Please Remus_ , I haven't done anything to you."

His captor stood there, not moving for a painfully long moment, Sirius holding his breath, and then he watched the man's shoulders droop, a heavy sigh falling from his lips; and he turned back around.

"Okay," he said with resignation, and before Sirius knew what was happening Remus was crouched down in front of him, working on the belt around his ankles.

Sirius let out a soft groan as he began to move his legs, and then the guy moved behind him; and his hands fell away from each other.

"Thank you," he said with feeling as he stood up, rubbing at sore wrists, and when the sandy blond only turned away to leave without a response, he grabbed up one of the heavy candlesticks on the table within arm's reach and whacked him over the head with it; and he dropped to the floor.

Sirius shook his head. "You're an idiot, Remus Lupin," he said with a quiet sigh and then leaned down, grabbing the belts that he was far too familiar with and set to work as quickly as possible.

* * *

Darkened grey eyes remained narrowed as Sirius strode through his parents' house, knocking off one breakable object after another and topsizing a few accent tables. He walked into his father's private office, not bothering to turn on the overhead lights, his only source a dimly lit, copper desk lamp as he began to search the giant black desk by the windows, that looked out onto a bustling nighttime Chicago, for a _certain_ paper.

His jaw clenched almost painfully when he found it sitting atop a case his father was working on. He pulled out his phone from his pants' pocket and dialed the number blindly before lifting it to his ear.

"Yeah, is this Fenrir? This is Sirius Black. Yeah. I need something taken care of. The address?"—grey eyes narrowed to slits—"1781 Twelfth Street, Apartment B. Tonight. Thanks."

He hung up and then immediately tapped the contact icon on his phone. He scrolled down to the name 'Mad Eye' and touched his thumb to the name, waiting for the bondsman, who owed him a _huge_ favor, to answer as he strode back out of the room and down the messy hallway towards the kitchen.

He continued to listen to the phone ring as he pushed the button that would let his private driver, Barty Crouch, up on the elevator that had no cameras. He'd have to remember to tip him heavily for waiting around so long for him. He didn't know though if he should be more touched or offended, because if he hadn't sent security to check on him he'd obviously assumed he was up there probably just too drunk to answer.

The phone cut off his musings. "Snuffles, good to hear from ya," was said in a low gruff voice that was surprisingly loud, probably due to it having to carry over pounding music, "You finally decide to join me at the Phoenix? Perfect timing, I jus' got here."

Sirius let out a rough laugh as he moved over to the small kitchen wall that was mostly covered with a painting of his family from when Sirius was just ten. "Sorry, not tonight, Mad Eye, I actually need to call in that favor you owe me. I should warn you... it's going to be dangerous." He grabbed the brass plated frame, hidden hinges on the back of the portrait allowing it to swing open like a door, and he opened a small metal white door behind it to reveal a recording machine.

"Dangerous, you say?" There was a pause, and Sirius could imagine the bondsman's one fake eye moving around in agitation and his expression growing deathly serious. "Tell me what you need. I'll do it."

Sirius pushed the button to eject a small tape and stuck it in his pants' pocket. Leaving the door open, he turned to make his way back to the room and for the couch, where Remus lay. He needed to hurry. "I've sent someone your way. _Whatever_ you do, don't let him see you first."

* * *

"James, what're you doing here?" Sirius asked, alarmed, tucking his phone back into his jacket pocket as he stood outside in the chilled air, having _just_ hung up with the person who was making his way towards him at that very moment and the private jet behind him.

His lifelong, best friend was pulling two giant suitcases on wheels along with him down the airport apron, still wearing his work clothes from earlier, crimson tie loosened precariously, black hair sticking up like it was wont to do after a day of manhandling, and a huge shit-eating grin adorned his features. His fiancé was lagging a few steps behind him in more appropriate after-work clothing, a pair of black yoga pants and an oversized white sweater, her thick, red curly hair up in an artfully-messy bun as she also pulled along two suitcases, but not looking nearly as pleased.

"You kidding me?" James laughed as he neared, the sound the epitome of incredulousness. "You're telling me, you _didn't_ know I'd show up after I found out you were still here, you lazy ass? It was this or flying coach tomorrow, because Lily here won't let me pay to upgrade her tickets when we fly." He stopped beside Sirius just in front of the stairs, amiably handing his luggage over to the pilot before clapping Sirius on the back in a hug of sorts. "Everything okay? You look like shit," he said more discreetly in his ear.

Sirius held back a grim expression as he pulled back, glancing out at the runway and distractedly watching a massive lit up Boeing slowly turn out onto it, flashing red lights beneath reflecting off shining wet pavement. He nodded tightly, lying on more than one account. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just had some last minute packing."

"Your clients are at fault for this," Lily said in way of greeting as she stopped, looking begrudgingly amused. "They made him drink with them. The _entire_ time."

Sirius forced a laugh at that. "Yeah? How much did they make him drink?"

James scoffed, "Nothing I couldn't handle, and I'm not drunk, just buzzed." He sniffed and then looked up at the private company jet, and suddenly he was grinning stupidly again. "This is going to be great. Your dad really wants you to show up, huh?" Then he eagerly made his way up the stairs, not waiting for a response, and Sirius remembered belatedly why he had wanted to cut them off.

He ran up the steps to find James waiting for him just inside the cabin, glazed eyes narrowed. "Who's that?" he asked, motioning at a closed-eyed Remus reclined in one of the chairs—and then he slowly broke into a Cheshire grin when Sirius visibly fumbled for an answer. "You _dog_. Finally coming out, are ya? Congratulations!" He patted him hard on the bicep. "Can't say the Christmas party would be my pick for it."

Sirius laughed, trying to mask his sudden nerves. "Yeah. Well... you know me," he said with a half shrug, James laughing loudly in response, and he watched on as a very curious Lily took the open seat beside the sandy blond.


End file.
